


The Metal Arms Inn

by CarryOnMySwanSong



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Bucky Barnes Crossover, Bucky Barnes in Supernatural Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Medical Procedures, Reader-Insert, Swearing, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 18:39:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13553271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarryOnMySwanSong/pseuds/CarryOnMySwanSong
Summary: [I need to update this fic. It was started before Black Panther was released so some of the dialog isn't accurate. I will be taking this off of hiatus soon but will be pretty much ignoring IW as a whole. Like it wont even be mentioned.](Y/n), Sam, and Dean happen upon the only Inn in like 100 miles of the area they were hunting in. Needing a place to stop and rest, that isn’t the inside of the car, they brave the dark dirt road, lit with a single lit up sign with the name of the place.(Y/n) realizes there’s something VERY familiar about the owner and bartender of the place.This is the story of how they all met, and how (y/n) and Bucky heal each other, fall in love, and how the four of them hunt together and save the world.





	1. The Metal Arms Inn - Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Yeap! I got bitten by the crossover bug! Since there aren’t Supernatural Universe type monsters in the MCU, I decided to bring Bucky into the Supernatural Universe, instead of making Sam, Dean, and Reader wander into the MCU. I hope you enjoy my story!
> 
> Oh yeah, Bucky's birth year was taken from the Marvel comic online encyclopedia, rather than the MCU... I've seen conflicting info that says Bucky was born in like 1923 or 24 (I dont remember exactly)... Like a flash of paperwork in one of the movies... But all wikis and online encyclopedias have told me 1917, so that's what I went with.
> 
> I haven't written it yet, which is why it isn't tagged yet, but there will eventually be smut.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction of the story.

If anything changes, in the series, those changes will be reflected on this page. Including Warnings/Tags, Characters, and Pairings.


	2. The Metal Arms Inn, Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction of the characters and the plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited to write this fic!

The faded sign, with a single spot light, came into view, as Dean droves down a dirt road, seemingly in the middle on nowhere. He smacks the steering wheel. “Hot damn! I knew it would be here! I remember Dad talking about this place when I was really little. He said it was ran by some old guy, and the town has like 100 people, tops. They have beds and food. We can stop here for the night.” **  
**

“Dean, are you sure this is safe? This road is really dark. Are you even sure the place is still open? What if it’s just a shack and is empty?” Sam asks his brother, concern written all over his face.

“Well, then we squat. We’ve slept in worse places. As long as it’s got a roof, a door, and at least one standing room, we will be fine. We can take turns sleeping, like always. Besides. Dad said it was ran by an ex hunter. It will be protected, either way. We will be fine.”

“And what about (Y/n)?” Glancing to the back seat, worry now gracing his brows “She got really injured and needs a bed to sleep in. She can’t sleep on the floor. Her hip was almost shattered when that demon threw her against the wall. She can barely walk. Plus the stitches across her shoulder. Dude. This is like the worst idea you’ve had, recently.”

Dean just grunts in response, and kept driving. **  
**

You were sleeping soundly. The pain meds Sam gave you, saw to that. You whimpered in your sleep, when the car would hit a particularly nasty bump.

Dean pulls up to the Inn and parks the car. The lights are on, there’s faint music coming from inside, and there are several vehicles parked out front.

“See! Told you it was open” A smug expression painted on his face. Let’s go in and see if they got a room or two. Then we can get (Y/n) inside.”

“Fuck that. Take me in now. I need a drink. Carry my ass in there, if you have to.” You stir from your sleep, groggy from the pain meds.

The brothers exchange a look, and are about to protest, but you are already opening your door and easing out of the backseat, grunting in pain as your bruised hip protests the movement.

“Alright, don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart. Wait for me and Sam. We’ll help you.” Dean rushes out and around the car, ready to help Sam carry you, under your arms, into the Inn.

Your feet barely touch the ground, but your hip still protests. The stitches in your shoulder barely holding as they hold you. “Boys, put me down a little. You don’t have to hold me so high off the ground. I’m not exactly light. Don’t strain yourselves.”

Dean looks down at you, annoyance flashing through his eyes. “Oh shut up (Y/n). We are hunters. You aren’t as heavy as you think you are. Plus you are injured. I’d carry you by myself, if I had to. Hush.” Sam laughs under his breath at his brother’s words.

“Fine. But don’t be mad at me, when you wake up tomorrow and can’t move cuz you’ve thrown your back out, old man.” You chuckle, darkly.

You have been a hunter almost your whole life. But you never looked like one. Not like the other women hunters who you’ve encountered over the years. You are shorter and not thin. Your arms and thighs are thick, but they are strong. Your breasts are large. You aren’t a teen anymore, so they aren’t as perky as they once were, but they are your favorite feature anyways. Still perky enough. Your belly is far from flat and muscular. And sometimes the brothers make you feel insecure, when they change their shirts in front of you. They have never said anything about your weight. But they are beautiful and perfect and you resent them for it. Neither looking at you like they look at the other girls they pick up, while on hunts. Sam and Dean have both been in fights, defending your status as a hunter. Some people can be so cruel. You love Sam and Dean. Big brothers you never had. They took you in, when they found you, while you ended up working the same hunt. They found out you had nowhere to go after it was over and they invited you to live with them back at their Bunker in Lebanon, Kansas. You declined at first, but they insisted. You’ve been family ever since.

You are brought out of your thoughts by Sam leaving your side and opening the door to the Inn. You grunt in protest, as Dean takes the weight off your bad hip, holding you around the waist, forcing you to lean into him. It was a comforting feeling. “See. I told you I got this” He smirks down at you. You glare at him.

Sam leads the way as Dean helps you hobble into the warm building. No one really takes notice of your entrance. You look around and notice the faded devil’s trap on the ceiling. The lines are unbroken so it still works. There are various medieval looking weapons hanging on the walls, and a lot of black and white pictures of times gone by, of what the town must have looked like at the beginning of picture-taking.

The three of you start to make your way to a booth in the back of the main room, when your eye lands on the bartender. He looks really familiar. His hair is long and dark, he has a day or two of stubble on his face, his eyes are the most piercing blue you have ever seen… rivaling that of even Castiel’s. And the thing that stood out the most was one of his hands. It appeared to have a black and gold glove on it. Curious. But then, you notice, the black slightly reflected the lights overhead and you realized it was metal. Everything clicks and then it hits you.

“Holy shit! No fucking way!” You exclaim. Not loud enough for everyone else to hear you, but Sam and Dean do. And the bartender seemingly does, despite being across the room from you.

“Uh, guys, you aren’t gonna believe this. But that… holy shit! That’s Bucky Barnes from the movies. Like not just a guy that looks like him. He’s got the arm and everything!”

The bartender’s eyes go wide but Sam and Dean look at you like you’ve grown a second head. “What the hell are you talking about? What movie? That’s just a guy serving drinks. Are you sure you are ok?” Sam asks, concern on his face.

“Sam, I’m fine. Dean take me over to him. I want to talk to the guy.” Dean sighs and does what you ask. You shuffle over and he pulls a stool out for you to lean against.

“Do you want us to stay nearby?”

“No, Dean, I’ll be ok. He won’t hurt me. I know he won’t.” You pat him on the cheek and shoo them away.

The bartender looks at you, curiosity crossing his face. “What will it be, Doll?”

You look at him, nervously. Not sure how to bring the subject up. You know who he is. You just want to hear him say it. But if he’s here, there has to be a reason. You know that your world and his world do not exist on the same earth, so he had to have been sent here by someone. You just dunno why.

“I… Well… Um…” Your nerves leave you as the pain in your hip starts to make you shake. You grip the bar top, trying not to tip over and hurt or embarrass yourself further. Sweat breaks out on your skin and your breathing starts to quicken.

The bartender picks up on the subtle changes in your body and quickly rounds the bar to catch you as you start to sway. His strong arms wrap around your body and he slowly walks you over to a soft armchair, in the corner next to the bar. He makes you lean into him, apparently aware of your injury, not allowing you to put weight on your injured hip. You wince as the stitches in your shoulder pull and you favor your arm. Concern takes over his face as he smells the blood slowly seeping out of your wound.

“Holy shit, Doll, what the hell happened to you? You are falling apart here. Do you want me to go get one of your friends?”

You look at him and shake your head no. “No, Bucky, I’m ok. Thank you… Do you think you could bring me a glass of your best whiskey? And then take some beer over to them? We’ve had a rough day.” You hiss as he eases you into the chair, and nods and goes to get what you request.

Bucky sharply whistles in the direction of the boys and Dean looks up. Bucky holds up two beers and motions for him to come get them. Dean smirks in your direction and goes to get the drinks.

Bucky walks back over to where you are sitting, pulling up another chair. He takes your injured leg and brings it up into his lap. You wince and sigh in relief as you sip your drink. “Now. Tell me how you know who I am. I’ve been here for the last 5 years and not one person has recognized me. And suddenly you hobble in and know my name. You know that I have a metal arm. And you seem to know that I am not a threat.”

You look at him and chuckle. “Well. I don’t know how you got here. But I do know your face. I know you were the Winter Soldier. I know the badness that came with that part of your history. I know your best friend’s name is Steve. And I know you are one of the good guys who fights to keep the world from exploding. But none of that happens in this world. It happens in comics and movies. I’ve seen all of them. A company named Marvel makes them. The guy who plays you, in the movies, his name is Sebastian Stan.”

Bucky takes all this in. His mood changes slightly, as you wriggle in your chair, trying to get comfortable. Your shoulder is bleeding and is seeping through your shirt. “Uh, Doll, you are bleeding. Do you need a hospital? Because the nearest one is nearly 100 miles from here.”

You look down at your shoulder, surprise flashes across your face. “Oh shit. I must have busted some stitches. Part of the job. Do you have a first aid kit, and a place where I can clean up?” **  
**

He nods “Yes I do, on both. But you are hardly in any shape to move. Let me clear this place out, and I can help you and your friends tend to your injuries. I can smell the blood on the three of you. I will help you, but you have to tell me what the hell happened to you.”

You go to protest but he’s already up and turning the sign over on his door. “Alright folks. I got a family emergency and I need y’all to clear out of here. I will be open sometime later tomorrow. You can pay your tabs then. Get to bed. It’s late, anyways.” A collective grown crosses the Inn as everyone gets up and gathers their things. Apparently this isn’t a rare event and everyone just accepts that Bucky wants to clear his bar out.

Sam and Dean get up and walk over to you, carrying your overnight duffel bags, ready to gather you up to leave. “Not you. You three are staying here. She’s really injured and you two also smell like blood. I don’t know what you all did. But you aren’t leaving until you clean up and rest.”

Dean visibly stiffens at Bucky’s words. Humans can’t smell when there’s blood unless there’s a lot of it.

You notice and speak up “Don’t worry, Dean. He’s human. He’s just… enhanced. It’s complicated. I’m sure he can explain it, once I’m patched up.” He relaxes a little but is still wary. Sam just grabs two more chairs and sits them next to yours.

Bucky shuffles the rest of the patrons out of the bar and locks the door. He goes into a back room, and then returns with several large bowls, a large first aid kit. It looks more like one for military use, rather than something you buy from Walmart. You recognized the logo for the Wakanda Nation on the front. You looked it all up when you saw trailers for the new movie coming out. Disappointed that Bucky wouldn’t be in it, but glad that he’d be in the one coming out after that. Funny how now you wouldn’t have to wait to see him again. And since he has his new arm, you guess his world is many years ahead of yours since the movies hadn’t been out yet, but he’d been here for 5 years with the new arm.

He noticed you looking at the bag. “I have a few old timers with army connections that keep all my supplies up to date so that nothing is expired. I patch up the hunters that come through here. I was very lucky I had this with me, to begin with. There were several injuries that needed treating.”

You nod at him, in response, as he sits in front of you again, scooting his chair closer to you. “Guys, can someone help her take her shirt off. I need to patch that shoulder back up. Her bleeding is getting worse.” He tosses you a soft towel, to cover yourself with, once the shirt is removed. Sam and Dean work quickly to remove your shirt, while keeping you covered with the towel. You aren’t wearing a bra, after all, it having been ruined when the demon shredded your shoulder in the fight.. Neither minded, having patched you up in worse states of undress, and you having done the same for them.

Without the shirt pressed against the wound, it begins to flow a little more quickly and Bucky quickly opens his bag. He pulls out what he needs. A bag of saline, an IV needle and line, gloves, scissors, various things to clean and dress wounds with, clamps, shots of morphine, a tourniquet, syringes full of saline, and a suture kit. He ties your arm and you flex your hand. When he’s satisfied with whatever he sees, he inserts the IV needle, tapes it off, hooks up the bag of saline, and injects two shots of morphine into the bag through the port. He gives the bag a shake and adjusts the flow of the fluid and hands the bag of saline to Dean who holds it in the air. He unties the tourniquet and you sigh in relief as the pain med does its job and your pain ebbs away.

At this point, Sam and Dean are exchanging looks of concern while they watch Bucky work. Sam holding your hand, while your leg is propped up in Dean’s lap.

Bucky slowly snips the old sutures out of the wound. “Dental floss? Really guys?” He grumbles to himself. Now that the wound is fully open, blood flows freely and you start to go pale. He squirts in some saline and tries to find where the blood is coming from. He listens carefully. “Got it!” he puts clamps into the wound and you sharply inhale at being invaded. Your hand squeezes Sam’s to the point where both yours and his turn white.

“So the deal was, I’d patch you up, and you’d tell me what caused this. Talk to me, Doll.”

You smirk. “Its (Y/n). Not that mind being called Doll. It was a demon. Not a demon of a man or generally bad guy. I mean a demon. You run a bar with sigils painted all over. You must know what they do?” You wait for him to respond.

He nods. “I know a little. When I arrived here, the locals took one look at me and decided that I’d be the guy to clear up their little issue. Demons had taken over. Killed the hunters that were staying here. They started with Old Man Killian. When I cleared them out, the locals told me I could stay but that I couldn’t paint over the sigils, unless it was to renew them. So I found all the books that the hunters left behind and did a lot of research. I had to redo the ones under the windows and at the back door, since someone has messed with them. I reworked them so that even if the wood is messed with, there’s some under the floor, in the dirt. I added iron to all the frames in this place, lined the walls with it, and every few days I paint all entrances and exits, and windows with a mixture of salt and water. I even have salt water pumped into the fixtures here so that they can’t get in through the taps and the toilets. The one tap that doesn’t have salt coming through it, has a devil’s trap at its source. It was definitely a learning curve.”

As he’s speaking, he sewed a severed vein back together and pulled the clamps out of your shoulder. You gasped as the feeling started to flow back into your fingers. The bleeding in your shoulder is minimal. He cleans it again, to make sure he didn’t miss anything. he sews the muscle back together, then closes the skin.

Sam and Dean both look very impressed with his work. The nasty bruise that had been steadily spreading under the skin of your shoulder is slowly starting to fade already, now that it wasn’t being fed by internal bleeding.

“I’m glad you all wandered in here. She would have bled to death by morning. You missed a nicked vein in her shoulder.” You blanch at his words. You had no idea it was that serious. No one did.

“Her hip is actually fractured a little. I can hear the hairline fracture grind together when she moves. You guys are gonna be here a few days while she heals. You can have the room in the back, for free. I don’t mind. You seem like good people.There are three beds in there, so there’s plenty of room.” He smiles at you, something crossing his eyes you try to place but can’t. Before you can work it out, the expression is gone.

Sam and Dean move to pick you up to move you to the room Bucky had indicated, but before they can do anything, Bucky has delicately scooped you up like you weigh nothing, and carry you bridal style to one of the beds. Since your bad hip was opposite his body and that meant your bad arm was against his chest, you used your good arm to hold on to his shirt. You blush deeply. No one has EVER been able to hold you this way and he’s holding you like he wants to protect you from every harm in the world. You snuggle into his neck a little and sigh. Breathing in his clean scent. The heat from his body easing some of the pain in your shoulder.

Sam and Dean follow close behind. Dean holding up the bag of saline, while Sam opens the door, and pull the blankets back on one of the beds. Bucky gently eases you into the bed, careful not to jostle your shoulder or your hip, laying you on your back, propping you up a little with some pillows. Dean hangs the bag on a nail over your bed. 

You protest as Bucky’s arms leave you. He smiles at you and tucks hair behind your ear. “I’ll be out front with your friends, Doll. Holler if you need anything.” He barely finishes what he’s saying before you’ve nodded a yes and drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is the life's blood that keeps me going.
> 
> If you have any tag suggestions, I am open to hear them! I need a little help, sometimes lol


	3. The Metal Arms Inn, Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Y/n) and Bucky begin to bond over her need for his help with her injuries. The beginnings of feelings start to stir in them both.

While you sleep, Bucky takes Sam and Dean to the kitchen to make some food. While he’s pulling out various items to start cooking breakfast for dinner, he starts talking. “I suppose you want my story. How I can smell the blood. How I could hear her hip… (Y/n) says I’m a character from comic books and movies. I don’t know about all that but I arrived here about 5 years ago, out of the blue. One minute I was on a secret mission and the next I am standing in the middle of nowhere, in front of this place. I had no idea how I even got here. Last thing I remember was fighting a mutant with teleportation abilities. I think they sent me here when my fist collided with their face. I knew I should have hit them with my metal arm. It doesn’t connect to my body in the same way flesh does. Makes it difficult for people with touch based abilities to use them on me if they touch the arm.”

As he’s cooking, he tells them his story. All about how he was born in 1917 and all about being a soldier. He tells them about his best friend Steve, and their adventures together. Even his past as the Winter Soldier and the super soldier program. All of it. By the time he was done telling his story, the food was eaten, the dishes were done, and everyone was sipping from glasses of various alcoholic drinks.

Sam and Dean take it all in. Dean is the first to speak. “Man, that is some shit. Not as in ‘I don’t believe you’. As in ‘wow that’s fucked up’. Because let me tell you. That’s fucked up. I’m sorry you are separated from your friend. I know that’s gotta be tough. Especially after being separated from him for so long.” Dean gives Bucky a knowing look. One of sadness and understanding.

“So wait. You believe me?” Bucky looks astonished.

“We both do. I vaguely remember comics about this. I never really got into comics and we don’t really have time to watch movies. We’ve seen a few movies in the series, but never got to the ones you were in. But (Y/n) found some comics in the Bunker we live in and ever since then, she’s watched all the movies. There are two coming out soon she’s been really looking forward to.” Sam breaks his silence.

“That girl of yours. What’s her story anyways? She walked right up to me, nerves of steal. I bet if she wasn’t injured she wouldn’t have lost her nerve to talk to me. She is something else, I tell you what.” Bucky looks between the brothers, waiting for their answer.

Dean smirks. “She is a hunter, like us. A damn good one, too. She’s been living with us for the last.. (He counts on his fingers) Almost 5 years. We found her not long after we moved in to our Bunker. We all clicked, worked well together, so we invited her to live with us. There are plenty of rooms and the library is full of books. Any monster or lore you want to know about, we probably have a book on it. Some are in languages we don’t know, but (Y/n) set up a program to translate them. She is incredibly intelligent. We love her like family.”

Bucky looks at the older Winchester, assessing his words. Trying to see if there’s any more meaning behind them. Something in him stirring. A feeling he hasn’t felt in a very long time, and he hopes that the Winchesters only see you as a sister.

Satisfied with what he sees in Dean’s face, he smiles. “Well, I’m glad she has you two. Sounds like she needs the family.”

The three men sit in comfortable silence, finishing their drinks. Yawning loudly, Sam is the first to stand. “I am exhausted. Dean do you want to take first watch, make sure (Y/n)’s bag doesn’t run out in the middle of the night?”

Before Dean could speak, Bucky stands. “I got this, guys. I don’t need much sleep, and I’ve had plenty before this. I can keep watch all night while you sleep. You two wreak of exhaustion. Get a shower and get some sleep. If I need any help, I will wake one of you.”

Bucky shows Sam and Dean the bathroom and where to find all the towels, washcloths, and extra toiletries. There is more than one stall, so they can shower at the same time. While they gather their things, Bucky checks on you again.

Since your bed is in front of the door, so it’s easy to keep watch over you while Bucky makes his rounds through the building. He moves, silently, making sure all the windows and doors are locked. Checking all the traps and sigils. He goes about cleaning up the place a bit. Sweeping, cleaning the other bathrooms, doing a final once over in the kitchen. By the time he’s finished, Sam and Dean are snoring in their beds. **  
**

He hears your whimper in your sleep and rushes to your side. “What’s wrong, Doll, did your meds wear off? You should still be getting a steady stream of it, since your bag isn’t empty yet.”

Your eyes flutter open at his voice “No… my bladder just woke me up. I really need to go and I wasn’t fully awake yet so I tried sitting up by myself.” You sigh heavily, tears threatening to overflow from your eyes.

Bucky smiles down at you. He unhooks your bag from the wall, and places it on your chest. You hold it as he picks you up again and takes you to the bathroom he showed Sam and Dean earlier. It’s his private bathroom. It is much bigger than the ones for the bar patrons to use and it will allow him to help you better.

“I know this is awkward and weird. But until your hip and arm heal enough for you to not hurt yourself further, I will help you do whatever you need. I’m a soldier. I know this stuff. It doesn’t bother me.” He sets you down on a very plush chair. He hands you a towel to cover yourself, so he can help you out of your pants and underwear. You blush deeply as you try and keep the towel in place as he slides your pants and underwear down your legs. “Doll, do you have clothes that are softer and easier to get on and off so you can do this yourself? I almost had to cut your jeans off you because your hip is so swollen. I’ll find you a shirt as well. I’m sure wearing a towel as a shirt is getting a little old.”

You nod at him. “Yes, in my bag. I think one of the boys brought it in. Probably at the foot of my bed or next to the side table. I have a long skirt in there. Its black and it’s made of tshirt material. There is a black tank top with Led Zeppelin on the front. Its a band.  Uh… before you go get that, can you help me to the toilet? I really don’t want to ruin your chair.” You blush deeply again.

He nods and lifts you again and sets you down on the toilet and leaves the room. He returns a few moments later, tapping on the door, and waiting for you to answer, before entering.

He helps you into your shirt and skirt and your lip quivers. “My bag is out and the pain is returning. Sitting on that damn toilet seat didn’t help.” Bucky chuckles a little at your crass words and lifts you again. You snuggle into the warmth of his body again. “Bucky, thank you.”

He smiles and presses his lips against the side of your head. “It is no problem, Doll. I’ll get you a new bag of saline and meds once you are settled back in bed, ok?” You nod against his shoulder. You whimper and he begins stepping more lightly. You have no idea how, since he’s so heavy and muscular, but you are thankful he can.

Bucky sets you down, adjusts your pillows under your head and legs, and gets your new bag. When he’s exchanged it, he goes to leave again and you grab his arm. “Bucky, stay, please. Please lay next to me. Your heat feels so good. Plus I know you won’t hurt me while I sleep. I trust you. I just don’t want you to go.”

He looks startled at your bold move, but smiles. “Okay, Doll. I’ll stay. Let me scoot you closer to the edge so I can fit on the bed next to you. We aren’t exactly small people.” He smirks down at you. Your expression goes dark for a second. Realizing his mistake… “Oh Doll, that’s not what I meant. I wasn’t making fun of you. You are gorgeous and strong. Honey if you were any smaller, your hip would have shattered. You are perfect the way you are. I promise you that.”

You blush deeply and look away from him. He lifts you a little and scoots you closer to the edge of the bed. He leaves for a minute to change, and returns wearing a black tank top undershirt and flannel pajama bottoms. His metal arm, and the muscles of his shoulders and flesh arm very visible. You lick your lips at the sight of him. If he noticed he didn’t show it.

He crawls in the bed next to you and lays on his side, careful not to bump your hip, but close enough that you can feel the heat of his body radiating into your skin. You reach out for his hand and he laces his fingers with yours. “Thank you, Bucky. I know this is probably weird. But I feel safe with you and I feel like I need to be near you.”

He kisses your temple again “Its ok, Doll. I don’t mind. At least this way I can listen and make sure you aren’t in any pain. And you don’t have to call out if you have to get up again. It’s a win-win for everyone. Besides. Who wouldn’t want to lay next to a beautiful woman. Now. Get some sleep. The more you sleep, the more you heal. Goodnight (Y/n).” He smiles down at you as you nod and your eyes flutter closed. You sigh heavily and mumble in your sleep “You smell so good” and he chuckles.

* * *

He lays like this, for the next 4 hours, just watching you breathe. Listening to the tiny sounds your body makes, watching your bag, adjusting your limbs as they begin to twitch in pain. Making sure you are comfortable. He changes your bag at this point.

Right before dawn, exactly 4 more hours since he changed your bag the last time, your upper body shoots up off the bed, despite the metal arm on your torso. You scream out as the nightmare crashes over you and the sudden movement of your body causes indescribable pain to surge through your frame. Bucky moves, in an instant. He picks you up and puts you in his lap. He holds you close, bringing you out of your nightmare and comforting you as you sob in pain. The noise woke up both brothers and they look over to see what’s going on.

“Sam, Dean, I need one of you to get her another bag of saline and two shots of morphine. She had a nightmare and it caused her to jerk awake. The medical bag is across the room, right there. (He points.) The morphine is in the only syringes that have needles.” Bucky directs them. Dean jumps into action and gets what is needed. He and Sam work together to get everything hooked up and back in place. As the meds kick in, your sobs quiet down. **  
**

“I’m so sorry I woke everyone up” you choke out.

“Oh Doll, its ok. I was awake and I’m sure your brothers don’t mind. You had a nightmare and you are in pain. We got you taken care of. Do you need anything else before I put you back on the bed?”

You hesitate.

“(Y/n)? What do you need?”

“I need to pee again” you sigh in frustration.

“Oh honey. That’s fine! I told you I’d help you. Don’t hesitate to ask, ok? You are healing. You aren’t in a hospital with nurses who can do this for you. We make due, yeah?”

You nod at Bucky, burying your face in his chest. “I’m still sorry. I know this has got to be annoying.”

He chuckles at you. “Oh hush now. There is no need for that. I am happy to help.”

And he does. Things going much easier, now that you are in a stretchy skirt. He leaves you to it and comes back to help you back into bed.

Bucky gets you settled again, making sure your IV line isn’t kinked and checking the flow of the fluid. He settles back into the bed beside you and you both drift off to the sound of the Winchester boys snoring loudly in the room near you, Bucky’s arm protectively laying across your body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is the life's blood that keeps me going.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is the life's blood that keeps me going.


End file.
